Babysitting
by 26hannah26
Summary: Greg has to babysit, and enlists Sara's help. SANDLE-y goodness. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Greg threw himself down in one of the many hideous (and uncomfortable) chairs that cluttered the break room. Sighing, he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands – the day seemed to have dragged on forever, and there was still work to be done. The bonus was that once he was done at the lab, he would only get a few hours sleep before going out again. Perhaps foolishly, he had agreed to watch his neighbour's children for the evening while she and her husband went out for their anniversary.

"Greg, come on we still haven't finished processing the vic's clothes."

"But I'm _tired,_" he whined, deciding in his head that even if she got out her gun and physically forced him out of his seat, there was still absolutely no way he would move. His feet throbbed in his shoes and his back ached from standing for most of the day. Even though his chair was as hard as sitting on a block of concrete, he would rather stay there than get back up on his feet.

"Well I guess it wouldn't hurt if we took a quick break. Looks like we're going to be pulling a double anyway..."

"Oh no, I can't."

"Why? Got a hot date?" Sara tried to stifle a laugh as he began to appear flustered – she knew he didn't want her to think he was taken, just like she knew he still had feelings for her.

"No. I'm babysitting."

"Babysitting...You?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. She could hardly imagine him being able to take care of himself, let alone children. It made her wonder whether the parents knew what they were getting themselves into.

"Yes!" he replied, looking hurt. "I'm more than capable of looking after a couple of kids. Besides, they love hanging out with a cool guy like me."

"That's because you all have the same mental age."

"Hey! At least I know how to have fun."

"Just what are you trying to say, Sanders?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Greg said in mock innocence, raising his hands. "Do we really have a lot left to work on?"

"Other than that last bit of processing, it's mainly paperwork. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"Well...You're welcome to come along and we can do it together. I can't let you do it all alone."

"I'm really not good with children."

"They'll be asleep when we get there, I'm allowed full access to the fridge and TV, and I will split the money with you. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I _might _stop by. But only if you promise we're going to get all the work done. No goofing off."

"Promise."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was nothing worth watching on TV – some documentary about the world's fattest man, the news, or one of the many hospital dramas that seemed to be on at every hour of the day – so Greg sat in the silence of his neighbour's living room, flicking mindlessly through a magazine that he had brought with him, his eyes barely able to stay open. The kids were upstairs, although he wasn't entirely convinced that they were actually sleeping. Every so often, a giggle would come from the room the two girls shared, and he would put his head round the door to check on them. That was what prevented him from biting off his own hand, anything to stop the boredom.

He tried to think of what he would be doing in his own home, a very similar version of this place, except his was sparsely furnished and lacking in general cleanliness. Probably watching a DVD (the box-set of the latest season of '24' had arrived two days earlier, and still sat unopened on the coffee table) or listening to a CD. He wasn't used to just sitting and not having any distractions, it made him feel like there was something he should be doing.

Well, technically there was. Paperwork. Sara had said she would take care of it, but he kind of hoped she would come over anyway. He tried to tell himself that it was the prospect of her dispelling the boredom that suddenly woken him up, but really it was the fact that they could be alone together. Alone, except for Chloe and Madison down the hall.

He took his phone from his pocket. Would it be really desperate of him to ring her? But knowing her, she wouldn't let him get out of doing the tedious task of writing the report at the end of a case, which they all loathed. She was no different in that respect. She probably hadn't been enticed by the offer of him splitting all of thirty bucks with her, but he hoped she would come over, at least out of pity.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Barely five minutes had passed when he heard a car pull into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. _'Something's happening at last!' _he thought, jumping up to peer through the gap in the curtains. Sara's car. He had practically given up waiting for her. '_Maybe my dad was right when he said I'd inherited Nana Olaf's gift.'_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Howdy! I hope you're liking this story - I thought this was quite a good idea at first, but it seems a bit boring. Anyone else think that? Um...thanks for the reviews, I honestly wasn't sure how many people would read this, with Sara not being on the show anymore (I hope I haven't just spoiled it for you!). If anyone has any ideas for the next chapter, let me know! Thanks, and don't forget to R and R if you are so inclined!

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Greg beamed, opening the front door and stepping aside to let Sara through into the living room.

"Did you really think I'd pass up an opportunity to spend the evening with you, Greggo?"

He decided to ignore the hint of sarcasm in her voice (plus the files she held under her arm told him the real reason she was there), and gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa.

"What've you got there?" he asked, noticing the large brown-paper bag she had placed at her feet.

"I thought junk food might inspire you to work."

"Cookies, chips, Gummy Bears..." he said as he took a look inside. "I may just have to marry you!"

He hadn't meant to say it, not really. He hoped she didn't take it seriously – she had a great sense of humour, and she probably wouldn't read too much into it, and his heart skipped a beat when he looked up and both of their sets of brown eyes met. He could feel the colour rising in his cheeks.

"That's just 'cause you'll never need to buy your own food again."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you bored yet?" Greg asked, monotone, not-so-subtly signalling to her that he was about ready to throw his pen across the room. This was the part of his job that he enjoyed least – even the smell of decomp seemed like a delight to him right now.

"Of course. But the sooner we finish, the sooner we can start having some fun."

"Fun?" He immediately perked up, but he was hoping his idea of fun and hers were the same – he had seen her eyeing the chessboard in the corner when she came in and really hoped it wasn't because she wanted to play. He had an idea: "There are some board games in the playroom – I bet you rule at Monopoly."

"What makes you think that?"

"You just look like a Monopoly kind of gal."

"Well, it _was_ my board game of choice as a kid. Sometimes my dad would play it with me."

"There you go then! Come on, one game and then we can finish up the paperwork."

Sara sighed, before half-heartedly giving in to his puppy-dog face. She knew that one game would turn into six, but her competitive side wanted to take him down a peg or two

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Greg, you totally cheated on that last game."

"No, I didn't!"

"Oh yeah?" Sara retorted, giving Greg a playful nudge with her elbow. "Then how come every time the dice rolled off the edge of the table, you got a six? Every time?"

"I can't help that Lady Luck is on my side tonight. And you're just jealous that I kicked your ass."

"It's Monopoly. Not a whole lot of skill involved."

He shrugged as the two of them began putting all of the pieces back into the box. After nine games, Monopoly had stated to get tedious. They climbed off of the rug on the floor of the playroom and sat back on the sofa, the bag of Gummy Bears in-between them, trying to figure out what else they could do to pass the time. There was still a little bit of paperwork to be done, but now Sara had come around to his way of thinking and was embracing procrastination.

"I think we have a guest." Sara said, nodding towards the doorway, where a little girl with a head full of brown curls stood.

"Hey, buddy. You want a drink?"

She nodded and motioned for Greg to pick her up. He carried her into the kitchen, and Sara heard him pour her a glass of milk, then their footsteps down the hall towards the bedroom. While she waited for him to come back in, she looked around the room. These kids had way more toys than she had when she was their age. All her foster home had was a couple of jigsaw puzzles with half of the pieces missing and some one-eyed ragged dolls. She had never had a Barbie doll, she thought looking over at a box filled to bursting with them, but she had never really wanted one. Who wants a doll that doesn't even look like you?

"Don't get any ideas, Sidle, I'm not playing with dolls."

"Damn it." she said with a smile, seeing that he was back. "Well, _Sanders,_ what do you suggest then?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Howdy hey! Thanks for the reviews, they brighten my days! Okay, so I would just like to say that I'm really enjoying writing this story, it's my firstproper Sandle thingy and the fluff is a nice change from the angsty stuff that is my calling card.It's just fun! So continue to read and hopefully enjoy, and tell me what you think - thanks!

Greg and Sara sat cross-legged on the floor of the playroom, each with a half a deck of cards clutched in one hand and a fistful of chips in the other, preparing to begin a fast paced game of snap. Suddenly, Sara looked up at him sitting across from her, and was a little surprised to see him already looking at her.

"Greggo, you ever thought about having kids?"

"What, like...now?" he asked in a mock-whisper, as if to say 'what if someone sees us?'.

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes and flicked a chip at him. "I'm serious."

"I dunno, I've entertained the thought I guess. But I've still gotta sow my wild oats."

"That's gross. And I can't believe you actually winked as you said it."

Greg shrugged and shuffled his cards. "What about you?"

"I don't really think I'm mother-material. Kids don't like me. They seem to like you though."

"Like you said, it's 'cause we have the same mental age."

"It's a good thing! No, really, Greg. With a job like ours, sometimes you need a good sense of humour."

They were both quiet for a while, concentrating on the game. The room was silent except for the noise of cards slapping down on the floor.

"SNAP!" Greg shouted, seeming to raise off of the floor a little with excitement. And then he realised he had probably woken the girls up. "Ah, crap."

Sara laughed and they stopped to listen for the sound of footsteps. When they were both satisfied that Chloe and Madison were still sound asleep, they went back to the game, deciding that something which involved shouting probably wasn't the best idea when there were sleeping children in the house.

"We need to come up with some kind of hand gesture. Or maybe we could wink."

"Oh, so we can make it easier for you to cheat? I don't think so, buddy."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

After figuring that snap was perhaps a little too risky, Greg and Sara returned to the living room to check out the immaculately organised and alphabetised DVD collection. They decided to bypass the cheesy comedies and chick flicks, and go for 'Die Hard 4.0'. "I've been meaning to see this," Sara had said, pulling it off of the shelf and scanning the writing on the back of the case. The two of them then settled themselves on the sofa, ready to sit through the pre-movie commercials and trailers, which seemed to go on for hours. At last, the movie started.

"Is he a bad guy?"

"I don't know. He sure looks like one. Trench coat."

"They're going to shoot him, aren't they?"

"Definitely..."

Sara hadn't been expecting the bad guy's gun to go off quite so soon, or quite so loudly. It had startled her, to say the least. Well more like scared the bejeezus out of her. So much so that she had practically jumped out of her skin, and into Greg's more-than-willing arms. He _definitely_ hadn't been expecting her to hide her face behind his shoulder quite so forcefully, or for her to be so strong. He had heard her gasp, but what even with Nana Olaf's skills he couldn't have predicted what she would do.

"Hey...hey, Sara? It's OK, it's over now."

"Sorry." She was embarrassed, to say the least. It was her job to stay alert and look sharp when she heard a shot, but the way she reacted to a _fake gunshot_ was to hide. She would have screamed like a little girl if she hadn't had some degree of self-restraint. The whole thing really caught her off guard. And she worked with guns on a daily basis, for Christ's sake – she carried one! Greg knew it, he had seen her make an ass of herself, and know he would probably make fun of her.

"It's OK. I nearly peed myself when I saw Red Eye."

"Whatever." She released herself from his arms (which were still wrapped around her waist, she finally realised), and sighed. _'I'm never going to live this down' _she thought.

"No really! Put me off flying for about a year! I had to drive to my parent's place for Thanksgiving."

"I've had a long day. The noise startled me, that's all."

"You don't have to make excuses, Sara, it's fine. You just weren't expecting it – I understand. Do you want to watch something else?"

"No, I want to see the end. And quit being so nice."

He smiled and they went back to watching the movie. Sara braced herself for anything else that might suddenly happen on-screen, and drew her knees up under her chin, preparing to hide her eyes again. They were both engrossed in the action for another hour, until the final showdown between Bruce Willis and the villain.

"You scared yet?" Greg asked, looking over at her to make sure she wasn't getting ready to bolt out of her seat, out the front door and into her car.

"Shut up," she replied, grabbing his hand.

A/N2 Thos chapter seems short, anyone else think that? OK, so the next chapter is probably going to be the last, and I feel I should tell you now, trying not to give too much away, that it involves Twister...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Good-day! Here is the last chapter of this story, it's a short little one and ends in a categorically fluffy way, but that's not a bad thing! So enjoy, review please, and have a nice day!

"Right hand blue."

"I feel like a pretzel." Greg moaned, struggling to reach an available blue circle. He hadn't exactly ended up in this position, practically doing the splits while she leaned over him, out of choice. After the movie had finished, Sara had spotted the Twister box on the top shelf in the playroom behind a stuffed raccoon (no one could deny her eyesight was brilliant), and had insisted that they couldn't end the evening without having a quick game of it. So there they were, sprawled on the mat, trying to stifle their giggles.

"Move your elbow, Greg, I don't want to go home with a cracked rib."

All he could do to reply was grunt, as he attempted to shift his weight onto his other hand to steady himself. Somehow she had managed to end up in a position that probably wasn't even that uncomfortable for her, whereas he was so contorted he couldn't tell which way was up. "This hardly seems fair."

"Stop being such a baby!" Sara said, stretching to reach the spinner and then read off what it said. "Okay...Left foot green."

Greg cursed under his breath – green was somewhere up near his head, and somewhere behind Sara. Thinking about how he was going to achieve this, he slid his leg through the gap between her back and the floor. It wouldn't be so much of a tragedy if he knocked her down while he was at it...

"Sanders, if you touch me I will rip your foot right off."

"Stop being so competitive. It's a game!"

"This from the guy who's cheated at every game we've played tonight."

"It wasn't cheating. It was creative winning."

"Ha!"

Sara flicked the spinner again, and read off the result. As soon as she had said it, her right foot went for the yellow circle closest to Greg's foot, knowing that was the easiest place for him to go. He cursed again as he realised he had to stretch to the furthest corner of the mat, and decided to take matters into his own hands.

"How you doin' there, Greggo?" She laughed as he scowled across at her.

Greg reached out and tickled her on the patch of skin that was showing on her side where her shirt had ridden up. The temptation was too much for him and her taunts make him decide that she really did deserve it. She burst out into peels of laughter, and within seconds her arms had given way and she collapsed in a heap on the floor, taking him with her. He continued to tickle her, and she was laughing so much that she couldn't beg him to stop.

"How you doin' down there, Sidle?" he asked with feigned innocence, turning her taunt back on her with a wicked grin. He yelped as she began to tickle him back, until he finally manage to yell 'stop', both of them falling to the ground with a thud. They both lay there laughing for what seemed like ages, unable to catch their breath. Finally, Sara sat up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and straightening her clothes.

"I won. You cheated."

Greg began to object to her accusations, pulling her back down to the floor to tickle her some more. She was stronger than he had expected her to be, and the fact that she managed to roll over and pin _him_ to the mat surprised him quite a bit. What surprised him even more, however, was when she looked him right in the eyes and leaned down to press her lips to his. He couldn't believe his luck. It was everything he had expected it to be, and so much more. When she finally pulled away from him, it took him a moment to gather his thoughts on everything that had just happened. Shocked would be an understatement. Flabbergasted with a touch of brain-melt would probably be more accurate, but still not anywhere near close. He kept thinking he should say something, as opposed to just sitting there staring at her, wide eyed, but his thoughts had stopped functioning properly. She was still sitting on top of him, one hand planted on the floor on either side of his face.

"No, I definitely won."


End file.
